


Mammon's Love Life is a Comedy (of Errors)

by Obeymepoptart



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Everyone bets against Mammon, F/M, Gen, Mammon asks for romantic advice from his brothers, Mammon is in denial, No beta we die like lilith, Romantic Fluff, Satan is so smart, Swearing, Things Do Not Go As Advertised, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:53:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25077172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obeymepoptart/pseuds/Obeymepoptart
Summary: Mammon can't possibly have feelings for the new exchange student he's chaperoning, can he? It's been two weeks.Snippet:“It’s classic, this behavior of yours. Two weeks of sexual tension masked by outright hostility—”Mammon opened his mouth. No sound came out.“—only to suddenly derail into awkward civility? You’ve obviously had an epiphany. The signs couldn’t be clearer.”
Relationships: Asmodeus/Solomon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character/Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 118





	1. Chapter 1

Two weeks into the school year, everyone seemed to abruptly feel qualified to inform the Great Mammon that he very obviously—and fairly pathetically—fancied the new human exchange student.

“Don’t know why I hadn’t noticed it before, come to that. You’ve grown fond of the human.”

Mammon swallowed his juice all at once so as to not choke on it. In spite of his efforts, he can’t help but gag.

“What? You serious?”

Satan frowned reprovingly. “You have been rather kind to her lately.”

“Your idea of kindness is as skewed as your morals, Satan.” Mammon recovered his equilibrium in a fit of heated indignation. Satan waved off Mammon’s summation with the sort of pish-posh dismissive air that would have typically made Mammon grind his teeth if he weren’t so stunned by the absurdity of it all.

“It’s classic, this behavior of yours. Two weeks of sexual tension masked by outright hostility—”

Mammon opened his mouth. No sound came out.

“—only to suddenly derail into awkward civility? You’ve obviously had an epiphany. The signs couldn’t be clearer.”

Mammon sputtered, “By that logic, I reckon I’ve fancied Solomon since he made a pact with Asmo.”

Satan just beamed at him as Mammon finally managed to do something clever. Mammon felt like he wanted to throw up.

Backtrack.

“All she did was find Goldie. She tricked me into a pact. Tricked. Me.”

“Yes, well, that might have a thing or two to do with it, mightn’t it?”

Mammon extended a great deal of conscious effort toward not gawping like a landed fish.

“Are ya—you’re not implying a human _commanded_ a love epiphany into my skull?”

Satan just looked impassively at Mammon. 

“You’re off your fucking rocker.” Mammon swallowed what’s left of his juice, then frowned, wondering which of his brothers thought it’d be funny to dump paint chips into his drinks. If Belphie was here instead of the human world, he would bet on Belphie, that little shit.

Then again, that sour taste on his tongue could be a by-product of this mental conversation.

As if summoned, Beel and Asmo showed up for breakfast. Beel went directly for the tureen of spiced porridge, blissfully oblivious to the thunderous scowls Mammon’s throwing at everything that moves.

Asmo, damn him straight to heaven, was more observant than his easily distracted younger brother.

“What did Mammon do this time?” Asmo asked curiously.

“Not a thing, if we’re going to be honest,” Satan said gleefully. “In this scenario, that’s the problem.”

Beel looked up from his food in vague concern.

"Mammon’s got a bit of thing for the new human exchange student he’s supposed to be chaperoning,” Satan explained with the air of someone announcing that the latest crop yields have fallen short of expectations. “Quite the emotional blow.”

Mammon cleared the dishes in his immediate vicinity, freeing up the space necessary to slam his forehead against the tabletop.

“Hey, you nearly spilled all the porridge,” Beel said reproachfully.

“Has he?” Asmo’s voice sounds unsurprised through the ringing in Mammon’s ears. “I’ll need to tell Solomon, then. He owes me ten Grimm.”

***

When Mammon was first assigned as Yuki’s guardian, he’s pretty sure that Lucifer is just fucking with him. Clearly Lucifer had found one of his unpaid bills and was punishing him for it. So he graciously allowed this petite human girl with wide eyes to just follow him around. He made sure she wasn’t eaten by lower demons and introduced her to the other exchange students. Mammon had no other responsibility than to ensure she was physically present in all of her classes. He sure as fuck wasn’t going to help her study.

Of course, he’s not as scummy as his brothers would like her to think. Yuki was an innocent, and that's a high temptation to any demon in Devildom. Frankly, that’s why she is rooming in the House of Lamentation and not anywhere else. Everyone else had access to magic. Yuki was as full as magic as a dead magpie. Which is to say, not at all. Mammon has spent more time glaring at lower demons in the past two weeks than in the past two centuries. He’s managed to dodge most of the summons he’s received as well, because frankly, Yuki has a nose for trouble from the beginning. From almost getting eaten by Beel to almost being ripped to shreds by Levi over a TSL quiz. She’d been nothing but a pain in the ass since the get-go.

Still, it was nice to have someone to talk to during and after class. She didn’t immediately insult him, even though she didn’t immediately recognize his genius. She had taken to nagging him about his schoolwork, even going so far as to take copious notes in their shared classes that she allowed him to borrow. It was also nice to have someone bring you snacks. She bought him his favorite soda during a classroom break without asking, and Mammon couldn’t remember the last time someone had bought him a gift unprompted. 

Her texting could use some work though. Girl never answered his texts promptly. She always seemed to be studying, and had the bad habit of taking her ringer off. Thankfully, she seemed to always study at the library. Which made it easy to find her physically after class, at least.

Which where she probably was at the moment. Mammon headed that way since Yuki had said that she had just won a coupon for Hell’s Kitchen for a 2:1 ice cream special, and Mammon wanted to score some free ice cream before any of his other free-loading brothers did. Suckers. 

***

Mammon’s nearly forgotten Satan’s wild assumptions by the following Thursday morning. Pity his brothers won’t let it lie.

“You could do far worse,” said Asmo, as they lingered outside the filling Magical Potions and Poisons classroom. “As humans go, Yuki is not as bad as all that. Fairly pretty, even if she doesn’t dress for her figure.” From Asmo, this is high acclaim.

“Her skin is very soft,” Beel added. Mammon felt outraged. How did Beel know how soft Yuki’s skin was? Mammon stewed in silence, not wanting to say anything scathing in front of Asmo and further give idiotic proof to his idiotic brothers’ theory. All he’s done is what Lucifer asked him to do and look out for this human. So what if they now have a pact going? Mammon has a ton of pacts with other witches. It doesn’t mean a thing. Goddamn Satan.

They walk into the classroom, only to find that the human he’s supposed to be looking after is sharing a seat with Simeon instead of his wonderful self. It’s all of Asmo’s fault for gossiping. Mammon tried not to be put out as he set up his cauldron. Discreetly. He didn’t want any of his brothers picking up on anything. There wasn’t anything he was upset about. No siree. 

This silly human was responsible for this nonsense. If Yuki hadn’t the audacity to exist, Satan never would’ve misinterpreted Mammon’s civility with her as some sort of— heaven forbid, some sort of maidenly shyness.

Beel said something, but Mammon didn’t hear it, owing to a totally innocuous move on Yuki’s part. She’d wrinkled her nose at some undoubtedly boring thing that Simeon’s said to her, gesturing her stubby fingers at the angel’s smoking cauldron.

Mammon’s totally disinterested gaze drifted from her eyebrows to the bridge of her actually-not-bad-looking nose, to the fingers that’re stained up to the knuckle in ink blotches and other miscellaneous substances. Simeon snatched her gesticulating hands, laughing. Mammon ground his teeth.

Asmo tapped Mammon’s arm. “If you squeeze that cauldron any harder, you’ll put a dent in it.”

Mammon eased off the cauldron’s rim, staring bemusedly at Yuki, who’s extricated her (ugly) fingers from Simeon’s grip in order to pat his vest with a handkerchief, since it got covered in whatever was in their cauldrons.

Well, _fuck._

“Have you really had a bet going with Solomon?” Mammon asked Asmo. 

“Since the first week. You reckoned that Yuki was less annoying than you expected. Knew I was onto something.”

_Well. Fuck._

***

Asmo and Satan were arranged awkwardly on the couch closest to the fireplace. They’ve been joined by both Leviathan and Beel. Leviathan had just rage quit a game fifteen minutes earlier and was taking a break, and Beel was there because there were snacks.

“So what is this all about?” Beel asked around a mouth full of popcorn.

“I needn’t remind any of you that this conversation’s not to leave this room. So…Speaking on a strictly hypothetical level, what sort of…efforts would it take to win the attentions of one,” and here Mammon stuttered, not believing he was actually uttering these words, “of one…human exchange student.”

There. Not as bad as all that. Didn’t even pain him too horribly.

Leviathan, propped up beside the mantelpiece, pulled a sullen face and dug around in his pockets for a handful of Grimm, which he tossed at Asmo.

Confident in the fact that he’s witness to yet another bet placed on his behalf, Mammon counted to ten. 

Satan’s nodding in a way that makes Mammon want to twist his head off his neck; and Asmo’s tucking his newly won Grimm into his wallet, looking characteristically uninterested in everyone’s everything. Mammon doesn’t catalogue Beel’s reaction, aware that he’ll not be getting anything since there are still snacks left.

“Well?” he demanded of his mostly silent brothers. “Have or haven’t you any suggestions?”

With the sense of a condemned man mounting the chopping block, Mammon’s decided that if he’s to do this…whatever this is…then he’s got to go about it properly. Best to focus on the doing and not examine his motivations too closely. Right. Anyway.

“You’re the Avatar of Greed, buy her something,” Leviathan said.

“Like that hasn’t occurred to me, Levi.” If Mammon had a blunt object on hand, he’d throw it. “It’s a question of what to buy her. Yuki’s not the sort to go for flash. I expect a diamond ring wouldn’t catch her attention unless it had historical value. I’ve bought her snacks and she gave me what she thought was half the value of them.”

“Perhaps she’s not one to be bought?” Satan’s tone denoted both confusion and admiration.

“Everyone can be bought,” Mammon retorted. At least that has been his experience. He simply hasn’t found her price yet. He’s had millenia with humans and they are all greedy. That’s why he’s the demon with the most summonings. “Now. Suggestions. Go on then, toss them out.”

“Books.”

“She’s not you.”

“Rare editions of books?”

“Are you even trying to help Satan?”

“And all you can eat voucher?”

“Beel,” Mammon can feel himself losing his cool.

“A limited edition Ruri-chan figurine?”

“THAT’S WHAT YOU WANT LEVI.”

“Why’re you coming to us for advice? She’s your girl, you handle her.”

“No, she most certainly is not. Er. My girl, that is.”

“Y’know, Mammon,” said Asmo, examining for chips in his manicure, “for someone who’s supposedly besotted, you’re looking a bit…irked.”

Well. Well. Hasn’t he got the right to feel irked, as Asmo put it? Suspecting that your brothers had the right of it when they accused you of nursing regard for a human girl is quite taxing on the nerves.

“Mammon doesn’t know how to handle affection,” Satan told Asmo. “It gives him constipation.” 

“There’s not any affection to be handled.” Blunt object. Projectile weapons. Why had he thought his brothers would be helpful? At least Lucifer has been busy with Diavolo today and is missing this mini-family meeting. There is clearly something wrong with him. He hasn’t been himself ever since Yuki arrived. This conversation is proof of it.

“So, in sum: you want to—for lack of better phrasing—court Yuki. But you haven’t got any feelings for her, and you regard this whole thing as a chore. Have I got that right?” Asmo asked skeptically, refusing to call Mammon an idiot, but the sentiment’s there.

“Well. Yeah. S’pose that’s the gist of it. Yeah,” Mammon mumbled.

Now even Beel’s judging him.

“Perhaps…” Satan starts, “Perhaps you ought to save the gifts for later. I should think that this phase of the plan—”

There’re phases? There’s a plan?

Right. They’re demons. Of course there’s a plan. Get your shit together, Mammon.

“—calls for reconnaissance. You’ve got to observe Yuki in her natural habitat.”

“Her what?”

“School. Her room. Honestly. You need to spend some time with her to figure out what she likes or dislikes, you idiot.”

*** 

“It’s not that I particularly want her for myself, you understand,” Mammon struggled to explain in an undertone. “It’s a matter of not wanting anyone else to have her, more like. Does that make sense?”

“Out of context, no.” Asmo runs his immaculate fingernails down a book’s grimy spine, face contorted in mild revulsion. “Taking into account your pathological greedy nature? Still no, actually.”

Mammon, who has developed selective hearing through the centuries, snatched the nearest protruding book from its shelf and props it up in front of him, the better to inconspicuously observe Yuki over the top of it.

Seeing as Yuki was herself barricaded by books, this whole ‘observe from a safe distance’ thing was not going to plan. He could barely make out the top of her head.

“All of you must be dreadfully bored,” Mammon said glumly, squinting at a wonky chart in Numerology and Grammatica. “To meddle with my personal life like this.”

“Well, I have to say that this has all been very amusing to me,” Asmo smirked at him.

Mammon shuddered, regretting involving his brothers at all. “This look off to you, this chart?”

“Might have something to do with the fact that you’re holding it upside down.”

“Oh.” Mammon allowed the book to drop forward; then winced at the puff of dust its impact stirs up, casting dust into his eyes. “This is stupid.”

“You’ll find no arguments here.”

“What am I to learn from—” A huddle of neighboring lower demons hissed at him, and he sneered till they turned away. “What am I to gain from just sitting here? Not like I haven’t already seen her hunched over one library table before.”

“Did you ever actually pay her any mind, though?” 

“Of course I did.” The vehemence and speed of his reply earned him a ticked eyebrow, and he’s quick to amend, “I'm supposed to be her chaperone. Couldn't let Diavolo down. Y’know.”

Asmo looked unimpressed.

“You’re a terrible chaperone. You haven't kept a close eye on her at all. She appears to be in a rush to leave.”

Mammon gave up all pretenses of absorbing himself in literature and craned his neck around—and, yes, Yuki’s slinging a bag that’s worth at least twice her weight in books over one shoulder, walking out with a purposeful stride that lists only a little ways to the left.

“And where’s she off to? She’s not supposed to have a social life, or—or go anywhere without letting me know, or—”

“From what I’ve seen, she’s got a fair amount of friends.”

Mammon thinks of Yuki's stubby fingers on Simeon's vest. He made a noise like a punctured balloon.

“I know. Clearly you don’t have a crush on her, so why should anyone else?”


	2. Mammon Goes Courting (Poorly).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Mammon tries to court Yuki, Satan gives romantic advice, Asmo gives romantic advice, Beel gives the best advice, and Mammon is still his own worst enemy.

That Saturday, after a great deal of intelligence-gathering (lurking and spying), Mammon determined where Yuki’s been off to most evenings.

“I’ll be breaking her of this habit straightaway,” Mammon whined to Satan. More importantly, he's going to have a chat with Levi and Beel about holding TSL marathons without him.

“I’m not a close personal friend of hers, so don’t take my word for it—but Yuki doesn’t strike me as the sort who’ll take orders from you.”

Satan's elbow jammed Mammon in the ribs.

“This is an opportunity, isn’t it? You, Mammon, will go in there—yes, I’m being serious—you’ll go in there with some sort of well-intentioned excuse and join them. Engage her in conversation. Spend some time with them.”

“But it's TSL again!” Mammon's working through his internalized prejudices slowly, okay. Baby steps. This is too much too soon. 

“Fake it. Do you or do you not mean to court Yuki?”

He’s not yet sure about that. Because Satan'’ll have his skin if he said as much, he nodded grudgingly. If he refrained from verbalizing, then he’s technically not lying.

“Go on, then.” At his hesitance, Satam swatted Mammon on the bum. 

“Don’t get your tail in a knot—”

He’s not accustomed to taking the direct approach. Frankly, most of the time witches approach him. He can feel their greed, literally. He’s flying blind with Yuki for the most part though. Everyone wants things, right? Why can’t she just give him a clue? Why was he expending effort for the one person that didn’t seem to want a single thing from him?

By the time he’s reached Yuki’s door—and he is not dragging his feet—Mammon’s concocted ten elaborate excuses. All of which drained straight out of his head the moment he barged through the door, without knocking. 

Levi, Beel, and Yuki just raised their heads to stare at him instead of the TV screen. “Oi, what’s going on here?” as if it was not plainly obvious that they were all watching TSL. Mammon wanted to bang his head on the wall. “Why didn’t I get invited?”

“Oh, I didn’t think you would be interested in rewatching it,” Yuki sounded more astonished than aggravated, and that’s what it takes to snap Mammon’s attention.

It’s not a bad face, if you stare at it long enough. Dark eyes. Clear forehead. A cupid’s bow mouth that is perfect for kissing. A cute button nose. Proportional, like.

He’s ogling her nose.

Maybe Satan is onto something.

“LOOOOL. Mammon is staring at the new exchange student like he’s in love. And posted.” Leviathan interrupted Mammon’s train of thought like a freight train. Mammon collected himself and scowled at his brother, who just grinned at him maliciously. Was this payback about that damn figurine he forgot to give him? Seriously, do all his brothers hate him?

A strategic retreat might be the best option. Too many antagonistic factors in this equation. Got to corner her when she’s alone and vulner—when she’s alone.

“I’ve already watched TSL once, I’m not an otaku like you guys.” Lead in with an insult. Excellent. Bad habits die hard. “I was passing by, and—” If a nervous edge pushes through his gruff tone, it’s owing to his inability to suddenly meet Yuki’s eyes with both Levi and Beel watching him. “Whatever, I’m out.”

He retreated out of the room before Yuki can cotton to the fact that he would have come to join them if she had asked. Shit, he’s usually a better liar than this.

Satan ends up laughing at him for ten minutes straight. 

***

Mammon’s skulking in the living room, contemplating antiquated demon courting rituals—strapping her into a chastity belt and magicking away the key till she agreed to a blood pact as his slave—when Asmo walked in. Only he’s accompanied.

Accompanied by Solomon, and Mammon tries to ignore Asmo’s smug expression, and definitely not staring at the hand entwined with Asmo’s.

The parting kiss Asmo plants on Solomon’s lips isn’t entirely surprising, but it’s enough to distract Mammon from his own, er, issues.

“How touching,” Mammon drawled as Solomon swished back down the corridor. “What’s next? Matching monogrammed handkerchiefs?”

“What a delightful idea,” Asmo’s cheeks redden, either with embarrassment—unlikely, as shame is foreign to the Avatar of Lust—or satisfaction. “You’re envious, I suspect. At least some of us are capable of doing.”

“You doing anything isn’t news,” Mammon sneered.

Asmo cocked his head. “You know Solomon has 71 other pacts right? And he’s always actively looking for more?”

Mammon cruised right past that one. “Everyone knows that.”

Asmo gives Mammon a pointed look. “And yet, he spends the most time with me. What does that say? Besides the fact that I’m the most beautiful, and clearly the best. Still, there is not inconsiderable competition for Solomon’s attention.”

Mammon pondered this for a second. As much as he loathed to agree with Asmo, he did have a point. “By all means, continue,” he said with a wave of his hand, sarcastically.

“It’s about time you came to me about your love life!” Asmo said with a smirk. “You stopped being fun about five centuries ago, stopped enjoying life!”

“I stopped going to orgies! I didn’t stop enjoying life.” Asmo’s sense of history left alot to be desired. After a few millennia, another quick fuck was just another quick fuck. Always nameless, always empty. It always left him dissatisfied, regardless of whatever pleasure he had managed to chase down. Mammon didn’t understand Asmo, and how he continued to just bed hop from one partner to another, or sometimes from several partners to several others at the same time. 

“What you have to do is just lure her to your room. Once you do that, don’t let her leave until you fuck her into a series of screaming orgasms. You might want to also go down on her.”

Mammon groaned and buried his head into his hands. Of course he’s fantasized about that. During the Numerancy class he literally spent most of the entire time mentally calculating how far apart she’d need to spread her thighs in order for him to fit his head between them underneath the desk. These past few weeks have felt like a cauldron of lust. Last night, Yuki had fallen asleep on his shoulder, and he had spent an hour trapped between wanting to touch her everywhere and wanting to just hold her. He barely made it to his room and closed his door before he fisted himself into an utterly unsatisfying orgasm that barely seemed to have taken the edge off. He glared at Asmo, wondering if his brother had been manipulating him for the past few weeks.

“That’s not romantic, Asmo.”

  
  
“Wait, since when is giving head not romantic?”

*******

“No. I will not accept any help from this quarter.” Mammon his thumb at Satan. “I’d have better luck begging romantic advice off a troll.”

“You could always message Belphie.”

“Oh, very funny, Asmo.”

Satan sneered. “Just because my tastes are discerning—”

“Discerning? Demons aren’t discerning, Satan, they take what they can get. When’s the last time you hooked up with a witch?”

At this point in his Devil life, Mammon had had enough of witches. Greedy bitches always wanted something, and were frankly terrifying. Mammon scowled, thinking of the three witches that still had him in a pact, no thanks to Lucifer—

“Desperate times, Mammon. Simeon’s readying himself to ask her out, I know it—no loyalty lost amongst angels, I suppose. I’d figured he’d back off out of respect for Lucifer. Regardless. If you refuse to play the wounded puppy, you’ll have to seduce her the old fashioned—”

“You could try being nice to her, yeah? Girls like that, don’t they?”

Mammon, Asmo, and Satan swivelled to gape at Beel. That is, Mammon and Asmo gaped. Satan’s facial muscles don’t work that way. 

Beel hugged a pillow that Belphie had left behind. “Just saying.”

*******

He’s taken to contemplating the repercussions of a romantic association between himself and Yuki. He expects that there’ll be consequences on all sides, including the punishment he would definitely get from Lucifer, and possibly Lord Diavolo himself. What’s in it for her? 

Aside from the money and honor of his presence, that is. Oh damn heaven and all of its seven choirs of angels, who the hell is he trying to con? Despite being the 2nd strongest brother, and general of a demonic army, he never seems to get respect from anyone. He’s the most summoned avatar of them all, but it just leaves him feeling empty and hollow in the end. Everyone just turns greedy in the end, and it disgusts him. Would that also happen to Yuki?

That he’s giving the future in conjunction with Yuki serious thought was rather alarming.

Perhaps this internal sense of displacement has made its way onto his face. Why else would Yuki have hesitated, legs locked awkwardly, hands clutching a chair’s back? Clearly she’s concerned for his well-being; what with the mutual pull they’ve been fighting for ages now, she’s got to express her regard sooner or later.

“I take it Lucifer finally had that talk with you about repeating the year?”

Disillusionment’s a crushing thing.

“Whatcha saying that for?” Mammon informed her loftily, shaking off the momentary hitch. “I come to the library all the time.”

“Yes, but this is the first time I’ve actually seen you study.”

Mammon wanted to roll his eyes. He’s gone out of his way to save this table for her, shooting threatening scowls at anyone who dared to even breathe in this general direction. “I study, human. You want the Great Mammon to help you study?”

Mammon does not mind her easy laugh, and just avidly stared at Yuki’s face. He used to be so smooth. But somehow in a matter of weeks, this slip of a human girl has managed to turn his world completely upside down. He dropped his eyes to his workbooks, vaguely aware that his ears seemed to feel really warm.

“Move over,” Yuki said, taking the seat next to him.

***

He managed to pick flowers for her, only to have Lucifer confiscate them, citing “lack of previous permission beforehand”. He tried to spend some one on one time with her, but somehow Leviathan always seemed to know when to rush in and lure either of them into a video game or anime watching session of some sort. He bought her a special seasonal pudding from Madam Scream’s, but Beel ate it, probably as some sort of revenge from that custard incident. Mammon’s at the end of his tether. This nice thing’s getting him nowhere. What else is there to—

“Mammon, are you busy after school? I wanted to know if you were free.”

Mammon swiveled on his heel, not believing what he’s hearing. Yuki’s asking him out on a date? 

Misinterpreting his disbelieving silence, Yuki elaborated, “I won a voucher for the Headless Cafe. All the free desserts you can eat. I know you’ve been busy, but I wanted to say thank you for taking care of me since I’ve been here.”

Yuki blushed, and she bit her lower lip. Fetching, that. No, really. Drove him barking mad. Also made him want to kiss her silly.

“Never I wasn’t busy, did I?” He chewed on the words so he doesn’t chew his tongue. “I’m free this afternoon though.”

For once, all of his brothers seem to have something else to do. Mammon and Yuki go to the cafe after class. They ordered all of the desserts they wanted. Mammon found out that Yuki liked things drizzled with caramel. Which end up being a bit of a torture, as Mammon watched her pink tongue dart out and continue to lick on spoons. Mammon didn’t have a thing for food, not like Beel did, but he wanted to drizzle himself in caramel and see what she would do. Horny but happy, Mammon followed Yuki out after she had declared that she had too much to eat. She was happy and smiling, but still lacked the spatial awareness that God granted any sentient animal. Mammon had to take her by the hand to avoid her bumping into a gaggle of succubi, who all turned around and glared at her anyway.

Yuki’s eyes went round as they continued to walk hand in hand, her lashes almost touching her eyebrows. Mammon can’t tell if his palms are sweaty, or if hers are. If she’d just let him graze his fingers across those eyelashes, let him touch her at all— Mammon stepped to the side, weaving away from a passing knot of lower demons back to the house. Yuki has not retrieved her hand from his, and Mammon is pretty sure his hands are sweating.

“Asmo asked me to go with him on a double-date this weekend. Asmo and Solomon are going on a date,” Yuki said before they got to the House of Lamentation.

“So you’d be going as a second date with Asmo or—?”

“Would you be my date?”

Mammon felt rather as if a small child, like Luke, had just kicked him in the solar plexus. But in a good way.

Yuki’s hair is all haloed round her face; she’s looking at him in a tentative way that’s wholly alien.

Answer. Right, she’ll be expecting an answer; he’ll give one. He’s a fucking demon, not some puny human.

“Might as well. Can’t imagine ya want to suffer through Asmo’s idea of appropriate public affection on your own.”

One side of Yuki’s mouth hiked up.

Maybe she’ll let him grope those thighs of hers under a table at the Fall.

Or perhaps he’ll not push his luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I sort of ran out of steam at the end.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an older HP fic that seems to have disappeared from this site.


End file.
